


Camaraderie

by ackerdude



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Complete, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, this is so cheesy oh my god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9634625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackerdude/pseuds/ackerdude
Summary: Post Promised Day. It's always been Riza's job to make sure she has Roy's back covered, but Roy wants to make sure she knows he will always cover hers as well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is so cheesy ew ew ew ew but I needed to get some of my Royai feelings out. Enjoy!  
> Follow me on tumblr at ackerdude.tumblr.com for more anime trash

Riza watched her superior from the doorway of the hospital room, his face wrinkled in frustration as he stood next to his bed and attempted to put on his dress blues. He groans in annoyance when he realizes he, once again, has put his arm in the wrong sleeve of the jacket. He roughly tugs it off to try again.

Riza shakes her head, a small but somber smile on her lips as she approaches him. He swiftly jerks his head in her direction at the sound of her footsteps on the hard linoleum floor. 

“Who is it?” he asks instantly, his unseeing eyes hardened to stone. 

“It’s just me, sir,” she tells him gently, reaching a hand up to place lightly on his arm. Immediately the tension he had been holding in his body drains and his shoulders slump. The military jacket falls from his grip and onto the floor. 

“Lieutenant,” he sighs out in acknowledgement, reaching for the fallen fabric, but she nudges his bandaged hand away and pushes him toward the hospital bed. He lets out a noise of annoyance, but complies. 

“What were you doing out and about?” he inquires, “I woke up and you weren’t in here. You shouldn’t push yourself too hard, Hawkeye, you haven’t fully recovered.” 

She places the jacket on his knees before she sits next to him on the bed he’s been sleeping in restlessly for the past three days. He grips the fabric with clenched fists. “I could say the same to you, Colonel. Why are you trying to get into uniform?” 

He lets out a large huff and she almost smiles at his predictable stubbornness. “I need to get out of here, I need to check on everyone,” he replies, and makes a move to stand up again. She grabs his wrist, effectively pulling him back down onto the mattress as she rolls her eyes. 

“You know everyone is fine, sir. I know you’ve been kept updated. I realize you’re going stir-crazy, but you shouldn’t stress yourself,” she soothes gently, squeezing his arm in an attempt to comfort him. 

“I’m _fine_ ,” he snaps at her, and tears his arm out of her grip in another attempt to stand up. He tries to swing his jacket around his body in a way that would allow him to shove his arms through the sleeves, but instead loses his balance when it smacks him in the face. 

Riza quickly stands up and wraps both hands around either of his biceps to steady him. He grabs at her blindly until he finds her shoulders. He digs his fingers into her shirt while he regains his footing. 

Riza has to bite back a gasp when his hands come dangerously close to the gauze packed thickly around the wound on her neck. She quickly reaches up to grab his fingers and pull them away from her injury, knowing it will just make him feel even worse if he accidently hurts her. 

“God,” she hears him breathe out, and she runs her thumbs across the stiff fabric of the dress shirt covering his arms in a calming manner. He leans down to tiredly press his forehead against her shoulder, letting out a heavy sigh. She has to repress a shiver as his hot breathe ghosts across her skin. 

“Sir…” she starts quietly. 

“I know,” he grumbles and lets even more of his weight rest on her. She doesn’t complain. 

She carefully grabs his bandaged hand to tug him back toward the hospital bed. He sits down carefully and leans away from her to miserably place his head in his hands. She begins to raise a hand to place on his shoulder, but thinks better of it and pulls away, dropping it in her lap instead. It eats her up inside knowing there isn’t much she can do to comfort him. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m just going crazy being stuck in this god forsaken room. I need to do something. I need to see my men, the Elrics, _something_ ; I just need to get out here for a little while. I need to make sure everything is being taken care of properly.” He rubs his forehead with the heel of his hand. 

This time she can’t keep her hands in her lap, placing one hand gently on his wrist before pulling his hand away from his face. She keeps it sandwiched between her own. 

“Dr. Marcoh is coming soon, sir,” she reassures him, “And I’ve been keeping tabs on everyone’s progress so I can assure you everything is fine,” she squeezes his hand for emphasis. 

“What about you?” 

Riza squints at him, confused, and although he can’t see her expression he rolls his eyes and sighs. 

“I can feel you staring at me, Lieutenant,” one side of his mouth tilts up slightly in a barely-there smirk. He keeps his gaze toward the wall in front of them, but reaches out to place a steady hand on Riza’s knee as he speaks. “It’s only been three days, Hawkeye,” he tells her softly, “How are you feeling?” 

She shakes her head at his concern, “Sir, you shouldn’t be worrying about me, you need to focus on—“ 

“Riza,” he cuts her off sharply and she almost jerks back at his use of her first name. “I’m not asking as your superior officer. I’m asking as your friend. Please drop the formality.” His grip tightens slightly on her knee. 

Seeing the tension in his expression, the hard lines on his forehead and the barely noticeable clench of his jaw, she relents, if only so he’ll relax. 

“I’m okay,” she answers softly, and interrupts him with a squeeze of her hand when she sees him open his mouth to call her a liar. “I’m quite tired, but I’m okay. I’ve been more worried about you than myself. I know these past few days haven’t been easy for you.” Although she knows he can’t see her expression, she can’t bring herself to look at him. 

The grip on her knee tightens to an almost painful degree. “Don’t you dare blame yourself,” he tells her fiercely, and she looks up to see his unseeing eyes burning holes into the side of her face. “That’s an order.” 

Riza lets out a humorless laugh and shifts away from him, moving down a bit on the mattress. “I thought we were just two friends talking here, _sir_ ,” she emphasizes cynically, but she doesn’t take the bait as he tries to lure her into an argument. 

He grabs her arm, demanding her attention. “I’m serious Hawkeye,” he tells her in a dangerously low voice, “Nothing that happened down there was your fault, and I forbid you to think otherwise.” 

Riza is relieved to know that when her eyes unwillingly fill up tears, he doesn’t know. “Of course, sir,” she concedes in the steadiest voice she can manage. 

Roy lets out an exasperated breath before scooting closer to her on the bed and moving his hand up her arm until he’s cupping the side of her face. His bandaged palm scratches at the soft skin of her cheek, but she doesn’t pull away. 

“Listen to me,” he closes his eyes, “We were all dealt a shitty hand. I’m not sure what you could even blame yourself for, but I can feel the guilt rolling off you in waves. The last thing you should be doing is stressing over something you couldn’t have changed. Even if…” he trails off, and she looks up to his face stricken. 

Riza curses herself as she feels tears spill onto her cheeks, but there is nothing she can do to prevent them from trickling over Roy’s fingers. 

He shakes his head as he feels the wetness seeping through the bandages covering his hand. He runs his thumb over her cheek before bringing his other hand up to lightly place over her neck. Over her own painful and permanent reminder of the day they almost died. 

“…Even if you hadn’t been hurt,” he finishes. 

Riza lets out an unsteady breath before placing her hand on top of where Roy’s was resting over the gauze. She shakes her head slightly, knowing he can feel it from where his hand sits on her neck. His eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. 

“Roy, if I hadn’t gotten hurt you would be able to see right now. You wouldn’t be sitting in a hospital,” she says, and the grip she has on his hand tightens when she sees he’s about to interrupt her. “It’s because I didn’t act as quickly as I should’ve that you were forced to go through with the transmutation. You can deny it, but—“ 

“God, shut _up_ , Hawkeye,” he catches her off guard with how serious he sounds, and her chestnut eyes widen. “Would you stop trying to be selfless for two seconds? I’m trying to be concerned for _you_.” 

Riza bites her tongue when she feels another protest make its way up her throat and instead lets him say what he needs to say. He sighs when he realizes she’s going to remain silent, before pressing his forehead against her own. 

“Does it still hurt?” he asks in a whisper, his warm breath fanning over her face, and she’s thankful he can’t see the blush she can feel rising on her cheeks. 

“Not so bad now,” she replies just as softly. “Mei did well, the doctors say it’s healing just fine. I’m still a little tired from the blood loss and there’s going to be a horrific scar, but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” she adds quickly. 

Knowing that this scar is going to be much more difficult to hide than the one on her back makes her all the more reluctant to face him when his sight returns. She doesn’t want him to blame himself for yet another appalling scar that has managed to mar her body. Knowing him though, he probably will. “I can just make sure it stays covered.” 

Roy shakes his head vigorously, “No, Riza. Let people know just how strong you are. Let people know the horrors you’ve faced and that you had the courage to take them down. Don’t you dare be ashamed of the evidence of your bravery.” 

She nods slowly against him, letting out the breath she’d been holding and trying to hold back more emotion as he drops his fingers from her neck to grasp her hand. The relief of knowing he doesn’t blame himself for her injury washes over her in a cool wave. 

“What about you?” she asks, rubbing her thumb along the sterile bandage wrapped tightly around his hand. 

“I’m fine, Riza. My hands are healing, and the doctors say that after a little physical therapy I should be able to practice alchemy again as if nothing were wrong.” 

She stops the motions of her thumb, worrying her bottom lip at his words. “But there’s a chance they won’t recover completely?” she asks, feeling panic begin to bubble up in her stomach. “Flame alchemy has become such a large part of you Roy, what if you’re never able to practice again?” 

The hand he had placed against her cheek slides down her face so he can grip her chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger. “Riza, I don’t think you quite understand. My sight may be gone and there’s a slight chance my alchemy may be something I have to leave in the past, but the most important thing still hasn’t been taken from me, nor will it ever be.” 

“And what is that, sir?” she asks before taking a deep breath. What could he possibly hold dearer than his alchemy? Than knowing that if he can’t practice, flame alchemy will die with him? 

He chuckles a bit, his hand sliding down to trace the skin on the back of her neck before responding, “You. Of course it’s you. Without you, none of this would make a shit. Because of you—“ 

She cuts him off swiftly, pressing her lips gently against his own, one hand coming up to grasp the collar of his shirt and the other to cup his stubbly cheek. She feels him gasp against her lips at the unexpected contact, before relaxing and wrapping both arms around her waist. He pulls her closer so they are chest to chest, and she can feel his heart beating rapidly, even through their layers of clothing. 

She pulls back after a few moments, but keeps their proximity close. Their noses are touching, lips still just millimeters apart, and their puffing breaths caress their skin. Riza keeps her eyes closed, pretending she could live in this moment for just a little bit longer and that she didn’t just screw up a decade’s worth of companionship. 

“I wish I could see your face,” she hears Roy whisper against her lips after a few moments, and slowly she opens her eyes to take in his expression. 

His own eyes remain closed and his eyebrows are furrowed as if he’s trying really hard to concentrate. 

After some hesitation, Riza releases the hold she has on his collar and takes one of the hands he still has resting on her waist in order to bring it up to touch her face. Tentatively, she places his bare fingertips against the curve of her jaw. She runs her own fingers lightly down his wrist to the crook of his elbow where she places them gently. She strokes his cheek with her thumb. 

He seems to understand her intention, as his own fingers begin to feather across her face. 

She holds her breath as he brushes the curve of her cheek, gently wiping away the few tears still remaining on her face with the pad of his thumb, and makes his way down her cheekbone. 

Such a soft touch for hands that have caused so much destruction, she finds herself thinking. 

His eyes remain closed, and she finds herself closing her own to better take in the sensation of his warm fingers on her skin. He takes her chin between two fingers, lightly tracing her lower lip with his thumb. He brings his other hand up from her waist, knuckles ghosting down the side of her brow bone to cup her other cheek before leaning in to brush their lips together once more. 

Riza is surprised by the sudden pressure on her lips, but remains still as he continues to press loving kisses to the rest of her face. He kisses her forehead, her eyelids, down the bridge of her nose, the tip of her chin, and across both of her cheeks before burying his face into the uninjured side of her neck, pressing another soft yet heated kiss to her pulse point. She tries to hide the shiver that makes its way down her spine. 

When he drops his forehead to rest on her shoulder, her hand finds its way into his silky midnight hair and begins playing with the soft strands around his nape. 

“Roy…” she begins, voice no louder than a whisper, but he cuts her off. 

“Just give me this moment, Riza,” his voice is muffled against the fabric of her shirt, but she relents, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head before resting her cheek on top of it. She waits anxiously for what he will say next, hoping what comes out of his mouth isn’t rejection. 

“God I hoped I’d be able to see again before I did that,” he murmurs and Riza’s jaw drops to the floor. 

She shakes her head in disbelief, “W-what did you just say, Colonel?” 

He chuckles, opening his eyes, and Riza could swear he was looking right through her. “Come now, _Lieutenant_ ,” he exaggerates the word before lowering his voice to a more serious tone, “You must know how… invaluable you are to me. And not just as a comrade.” 

He wraps one arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him on the bed. Their lips brush together as he speaks, “You might even say you… light a fire in me.” 

At that Roy bursts out laughing, and Riza, though blushing furiously, has enough mind to shove him away with an exasperated sigh. 

“Really Roy?” she asks, her feigned irritation becoming apparent as she tries to repress her chuckling at the sight before her. 

He is leaning back on the pillows of the bed clutching his abdomen, laughing raucously, and she doesn’t think she’s seen him this carefree since before Ishval. She can’t help but smile at the pure happiness she sees on his face. 

After a moment he sits back up, grasping for her hand on the blankets, and yanking her so that she practically falls into him. 

He tangles one hand in her hair and presses their foreheads together as he speaks. “You really do, Riza,” he admits with a muted grin, and this time his cheeks are the ones tinted pink. 

She shakes her head affectionately at him, and leans in to steal a quick peck from his lips, only to be interrupted by an abrupt knock on the door. They jump apart as the door opens, but Riza keeps a firm grip on Roy’s hand. 

“Oh, Fuery,” she exclaims, attempting to keep her voice calm and undeterred, but if the Colonel’s grin is any indicator she’s doing a pretty shit job. “What can I help you with?” 

Fuery looks a little baffled as he takes in the sight of his superiors in such close proximity, but then again, the whole military has bets going for the two of them. He looks down at his clipboard in an attempt to hide a smile. 

“Dr. Marcoh has just arrived, Lieutenant Hawkeye. Would you like for me to send him in?” he asks, eyeing the two of them and lifting an eyebrow. 

Roy pops up excitedly at the mention of the doctor, bouncing up and down like a child on the bed. “Absolutely,” he grins over at Riza before continuing, “Tell him to come in right away. I’m very eager to regain my sight, Fuery. You know, you just don’t realize how beautiful some things are until they’re no longer in front of you.” 

Riza bites her lip, trying not to burst out laughing at the Colonel’s cheesiness as he stares giddily in her direction. Fuery mutters an affirmative before scuttling out of the room, shutting the door hastily behind him. 

Roy bursts out into a fit of chuckles before wrapping his arm around Riza’s waist and dragging her down onto the lumpy hospital mattress. He situates them so they are facing each other, and lightly runs his fingertips up her cheek. 

She shakes her head exasperatedly, but there is a smile on her face. “I swear to God, Mustang,” she takes the bandaged hand that isn’t resting on her face and brushes her lips across his knuckles, “One of these days I’m going to have to kill you.” 

He chuckles. “Yes, dear,” he hums noncommittally and presses his lips into hers, only separating when another knocking sounds against their door.


End file.
